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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27747454">can't find paradise on the ground</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrystallizedInsomniac/pseuds/CrystallizedInsomniac'>CrystallizedInsomniac</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shall We Date?: Obey Me!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Drinking, Gender-Neutral Character, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Other</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 20:15:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,886</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27747454</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrystallizedInsomniac/pseuds/CrystallizedInsomniac</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"I wouldn't say that," Barbatos taps a long nail to draw your attention back to him. "I am a demon after all."</p><p>Oh? You lick your lips, mindful of the way his eyes flicker to the motion for a split second before they refocus on your face again. Interesting.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Barbatos (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Barbatos/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>285</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>can't find paradise on the ground</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>title comes from the song <b>all we do</b> by <b>oh wonder</b>.</p><p>content warning: this is dubcon in nature, i don't think i have to explain <i>why</i> it is when you have alcohol added into the mix. with that said, consider this a thank you for the 158 subscribers ♡ y'all really stay out here making my whole day.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There's something very annoying about him, you think. Something that makes your jaw clench and your heart twist, like a wound festering. A contradiction to the other feelings, the ones you don't like to think too hard about—they're too childish, too idealistic. Who the hell falls in love with someone they don't truly know anything about?</p><p>You, apparently.</p><p>That's not here nor there, anyways. So you squint at him, forcing the words out of your mouth to come out steady and sure—something shy of a command.</p><p>"Drink with me." You say. When you notice his hesitation, you raise the bottle in your hand and shake it, as if to entice him. All it does is spill some of the contents from the bottle into your hand—thick, golden liquid running down in between your fingers. Leaves a small shimmery trail in its wake.</p><p>Barbatos' lips thin out, you see his eyes flickering from your face to your hand and back to your face. Like he's openly debating something, and you <em>don't get that</em>. What is there to debate?</p><p>It's just an invitation to drink, unwind. You didn't see him drink, <em>not once</em>, during the whole event, you're just—</p><p>You're just looking out for him, that's all. Nothing at all to do with the fact that now that he's here, and you're no longer alone, the thought of him leaving to go back to attend to Diavolo makes you feel jealous. Not at all.</p><p>"Where did you even find the bottle?" Barbatos closes the door behind him, moves closer to the bathtub. It's not the answer you were expecting, but he's staying. Small victories, you suppose.</p><p>You give him a tiny smile, debating on whether or not this counts as stealing from the royal family, before deciding that it doesn't. "A room."</p><p>It's not a lie. You <em>did</em> in fact find this in one of the many rooms scattered throughout the castle. You don't tell him that the only reason you found that room in specific was because Mammon had dragged you off with him to <em>borrow</em> something from Diavolo. He had bribed you with alcohol, <em>the real stuff, something that will actually get ya drunk. Trust me! I know Diavolo has to be keepin' some of it somewhere around here.</em> Before he scurried off somewhere, arms full of trinkets.</p><p>Barbatos raises an eyebrow, looking down at you but not saying anything else to do. Content to simply observe.</p><p>You tilt your head to the side, the cold ceramic of the bathtub is heavenly against your overheated skin. The top buttons of the shirt you were forced to wear by Asmodeus earlier today have been undone, leaving a tantalizing amount of skin uncovered. You think you should feel ridiculous, sprawled inside a bathtub with a bottle of liquor in hand and barely able to keep your eyes open. </p><p>But you feel good. Kinda fuzzy around the edges, sure, but <em>good</em>. It's been a while since you've indulged, and the alcohol has left you feeling more relaxed. Any worries from earlier don't compare, aren't important, to the taste of Devildom liquor running smoothly down your throat.</p><p>"I didn't know humans could get inebriated from Devildom liquor," Barbatos' voice sounds closer, a curious lilt to his voice that sounds so pleasant. "You continue to amaze me."</p><p><em>Oh?</em> your chest feels funny. That almost sounded like a compliment. </p><p>When you open your eyes, you're surprised to find that Barbatos' face is closer to you. It takes you a second to realize that he's sat down on the floor, propping his body up by folded arms along the edge of the bathtub. His teal-coloured eyes are focused on you, like he'd be quite content simply staring at the human exchange student. Like he's trying to figure out what makes you so special that you have the avatars of sin under your thumb, ready to do anything for you.</p><p>You're not too sure how to feel about that.</p><p>"What can I say, that's me—" You shake the bottle, slowly push it towards him. "—a walking surprise."</p><p>It'd be a staring contest if your eyelids didn't keep closing on you, alcohol always did make you sleepy, and the sound of his soft breathing isn't helping the situation. You thought the weight of his gaze on you would be uncomfortable—and while it is a bit mortifying, mostly because <em>this</em> isn't how you wanted your first time alone with Barbatos to go like—but it's completely different. You feel... content.</p><p>Barbatos hums, "I'd rather not drink."</p><p>You click your tongue. Open your eyes. "Why not?"</p><p>Barbatos opens his mouth, takes his time answering your question. When he settles for an answer, it sounds weak at best; "I can't fulfill my duties to my Lord if I'm not of sound mind."</p><p>Which is bullshit.</p><p>Barbatos' eyes crinkle, the beginning of an amused chuckle escaping his mouth. It takes you a second to realize you said that out loud.</p><p>"But you're... here." You say. "You're here, and not out there."</p><p>He nods. "Yes, I am."</p><p>"What? so you're not allowed to indulge?" As if to prove a point, you bring the bottle back to your lips. The amount you tip back is too large, has you almost wincing and chocking on the liquid before you remember that it doesn't burn like human alcohol does. You feel some of it drip down the side of your mouth, collect in the crevice of your shoulder.</p><p>You feel something thump against the edge of the bathtub. When you trail your eyes away from Barbatos' face and down, further down where your legs are awkwardly standing out from the bathtub, you see his twin-forked tail half inside the tub, it brushes against your leg. </p><p>"I wouldn't say that," Barbatos taps a long nail to draw your attention back to him. "I am a demon after all."</p><p>Oh? You lick your lips, mindful of the way his eyes flicker to the motion for a split second before they refocus on your face again. Interesting. </p><p>"Why won't you drink with me then?"</p><p>Barbatos leans back, sits up properly. You have half a mind to ask him why he's sitting down on the floor when he could've... he could've left. He could've gone collect Lucifer to pick you up from the bathtub and take you back to the house—but instead he's here, humoring you because.... because—</p><p><em>Why</em> is he here anyways?</p><p>"Let me ask you this," Barbatos begins, and you sit up. Surprisingly enough, you don't feel <em>too</em> dizzy—even with half the bottle gone. You twist on your side and lean over the edge of the bathtub, bridging the gap between the two of you that wasn't there before. "Why me?"</p><p><em>Because you're already here</em>, is the first thing that pops to mind. <em>Because you haven't left yet. </em></p><p>You shrug instead, softly click the bottle against the bottom of the tub from outside. "Because I want it to be you."</p><p>"But, why?"</p><p>You grunt, frustrated. Your brain can't decide between feeling happy that he's here, talking to you—that this is the first time in the four months you've been dragged into the Devildom that you're able to finally sit down and talk to him—or annoyed by his questioning. The sober you would've deflected, would've said something witty or... or snarky. Something intelligent. Something that won't make you look like a fool.</p><p>The sober you is not the current you, however. So you can't help the honesty that drips from your, barely slurred, mouth.</p><p>"I trust you." You huff. "There. Because I trust you."</p><p>"Trust...placing your trust on me?" He sounds amused, even though he looks like he wants to scold you. "How interesting."</p><p>Your lips thin out, annoyance settling briefly. You scowl at him. Now you just feel silly. "If you don't want to it's fine I—"</p><p>"No." Barbatos shakes his head. "I'll drink with you."</p><p>You watch as he takes off his gloves, setting them to the side. His hands are pretty, there's just no other word to describe them. You watch as he reaches forward, for the neck of the bottle in your loose grasp, long, deft fingers, brushing against yours as he takes the bottle from you. Brings it up to his face to examine the label in the script you haven't <em>yet</em> mastered. </p><p>He hums, amused. Says the name of something—the name of the liquor you're consuming, you're going to assume—in his tongue, it sounds smooth and elegant when he says it. </p><p>"An excellent choice," he says, bringing the bottle up to his lips, an amused quirk of lips as he maintains steady eye contact with you. "Not a drink that is enjoyed alone, however."</p><p>Your mouth and throat suddenly feel dry, watching the way his Adams apple bobs as he finishes the rest of the liquor inside the bottle. It's such a smooth action, only jarring because it goes completely against any image you had of him prior to this. </p><p>He seems like the type of man—demon—to drink from glass, seated in plush and luxurious arrangements. Not sitting down on the floor drinking straight from the bottle, entertaining the requests of an inebriated guess at a party where he's supposed to be working.</p><p>There's a part of you that feels guilty—forcing him to stay here, babysitting you—but then you have to remind yourself that he's grown, <em>older</em> than you by countless years. You didn't force him to do anything he didn't want to do, and well—</p><p>Diavolo doesn't seem like the type to be annoyed if Barbatos were to disappear for a couple of hours.</p><p>He places the empty bottle to the side, crosses his legs, and looks at you. Waiting.</p><p>You don't break eye contact with him as you search for the other bottle next to you, inside the tub. It's the same liquor, just a bigger bottle. So you might've just taken more than one...</p><p>Conversation with Barbatos comes as easy as downing the thick golden liquor. It feels just as good when you manage to surprise a laugh out of him, pale cheeks dusted in an attractive flush by the time the two of you have almost finished the second bottle. His movements are more relaxed, there's an openness to him that isn't exactly unfamiliar, but rather paints a more open picture to the kind nature that he's shown you before. </p><p>Yes, it <em>is</em> starting to get a bit more difficult to keep your center of balance focused. But it's so, <em>so</em> worth it when his laughter cuts crystal clear and pleasant when you tell him about something dumb you and the brothers had gotten up to the other day. Even though you're sure you're slurring your words too much, and that you're probably losing your train of thought during the anecdote. When you look at him, past the blurriness crawling it's way through your peripheral vision, Barbatos looks like a friend.</p><p>Like someone you can confide in.</p><p>
  <strike>Like someone you could learn to actually love.</strike>
</p><p>When you bring the bottle up to your lips, missing enough times that the man chuckles and scoots forward and helps you guide the bottle up to your lips and <em>tips</em>, you whine. The remaining liquid runs down the side of your mouth in a big pour, down your own clumsy fingers and his. Your breathing hitches, and you feel Barbatos' pull the bottle away from you.</p><p>You bring your hand up to wipe at the mess on your mouth, a giggle bursting through your lips. "Oh."</p><p>Too focused on your hand, the way the liquid <em>glitters</em> oh so prettily, you miss the sound Barbatos makes.</p><p>"That's a shame." You hear him say, voice low, a whisper. "I wanted more."</p><p>You blink at him, owlishly. He's closer than before, holding your hand with his now. When did that happen?</p><p>"We could..." you tongue feels heavy on your mouth, his hands feel nice holding onto yours. They're slightly bigger than your own, attractive. "More. We could get more."</p><p>"Yes." Barbatos says, and you're expecting him to stand up and maybe magic some more liquor. He can do that, right?</p><p>Instead, he brings your hand right up to his mouth. Your brain, too focused trying to keep you breathing and from passing out, registers a second too late just how hot his breathing is against your knuckles, before you feel his lips press against them. Your breathing stops, and when you look at <em>him</em> and not your hand, you find Barbatos' eyes closed.</p><p>Like he's talking himself into doing something.</p><p>His grip around your wrist tightens, just the tiniest second, before you feel his lips part and his tongue slither out. The appendage is rough, feels... weird. It's the only way your brain can describe the sensation. Barbatos takes his time licking up the spilled alcohol in your hand—dragging his tongue down your open palm, in between your fingers, and down, down, <em>down</em> your wrist, pulling your arm towards him to get closer. His saliva feels oddly warm against your skin, and your brain has a single thought then.</p><p>
  <em>This is nice.</em>
</p><p>Someone makes a sound, and Barbatos opens his eyes, finally. The look he levels you seems to sober you up, smothering and heady—<em>heavy</em>. His pupil dilated, a thin circle of teal against darkness. His attention goes from staring at your own eyes, down towards your lips, then your neck.</p><p>Silent. Waiting.</p><p>You swallow, suddenly more aware of your surroundings. Aware of the burning need beginning to form inside of you. It takes you too long to say anything, to do anything. When you do, you're not sure what you're even giving him permission for.</p><p>"Okay." You take a shaky breath, aware that you're halfway out of the tub by now. "Okay."</p><p>Barbatos leans closer until you can feel his breathing on the side of your neck, lips barely grazing skin. His nose bumps against your throat, content to be near you. It feel ridiculously warm in the room, you think it might be because of you or him or—<em>something</em>. It's starting to get a bit difficult to think or focus on anything else than isn't Barbatos' presence close to you.</p><p>Only the bathtub separating the two of you completely.</p><p>You feel him inhale, and then he pulls your arm close to his chest, closing the tiny amount of distance. His tongue laps up the drying liquor on your neck, flat and making it's way down your throat, whispers of kisses interrupting his trajectory. When he reaches the junction between your neck and shoulder, he mouths at the spot before you feel him bite down, enough to have you wince.</p><p>He runs his tongue over the bite, soothing, apologetic. </p><p>His name comes out in a breathy, flustered, stumble. Your heart beat is beating a thousand miles an hour, and you <em>know</em> he can hear you. Can probably feel it. It's all you can do to ground yourself.</p><p>Your other hand, gripping the edge of the tub, finds itself winding behind his head and up his hair from the nape of his neck. Mindful of his horns, and you tug. </p><p>He grunts, can feel the beginning of a displeased growl beginning to form in his chest by your interruption. Like he's <em>actually</em> annoyed by your attempt at trying to clear your head, and <em>fuck</em> it should not be making you feel this needy. This pleased.</p><p>"Barbatos," you whine, pulling him back. There's no resistance this time, and whatever words you were going to say next die in your mouth when you take him in. Flustered, breathless. Disheveled.</p><p>He looks hungry. </p><p>You don't realize you've closed the distance between the two of you again. Only when your nose bumps against his, clumsily, missing his lips and placing a single kiss on the side of his mouth. He tastes like gold, sweet and cloying.</p><p>Then trying again when he lets out a pleased noise, open mouthed kisses against his own lips. It's messy, unhurried, but nonetheless intense. You're clinging onto him like he'd drift away from you if you separate for even a second, and Barbatos meets you in kind—with the same amount of hunger behind your every move, forked tongue exploring every crevice of your mouth. </p><p>You feel the world shift, an arm winding itself around your waist, and then the air inside your lungs leaving. Someone makes a sound, a grunt, and it's then that you've realized that you've closed your eyes.</p><p>When you open them, you find yourself on top of Barbatos straddling his hips. Mouth open and chest heaving, he's looking up at you dazedly.</p><p>It takes you a second to realize you fell out of the bathtub and he cushioned your fall.</p><p>A small, nervous, sounding laugh comes out of your lips.</p><p>Barbatos's lips quirk up.</p><p>"Hi," you whisper, sliding down until you're lying on top of him. You run a hand through his hair, loving the way it makes him look undone. </p><p>"Hello," he replies back. Humming contentedly when you pepper his face with kisses. You feel his tail wind itself around your calf, can't help but shiver when you feel how refreshingly cool it feels against your heated skin. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>never beta read excuse any mistakes. i started this and i hate how short it is but i honestly don't know where i was going with it. all you need to know is that reader was Not vibing at some party diavolo threw, sneaked off with mammon, and proceeded to get drunk and found themselves inside a damn bathtub in one of the rooms (not a bathroom) in the castle. barbatos, being one of the few sober demons in the castle, probs went out to look for mammon and mc, but found mc alone. and well. here we are. </p><p>what are the chances of me keeping this oneshot up? very low. i have a thing where if my fic isn't extremely long for no reason, it's probably not good. just my brain being dumb. </p><p>come yell at me on my <a href="https://twitter.com/crystalbases">twitter</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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